


Not Like Other Men

by Mawgon



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, body shame, partial androgen insensitivity syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-20 22:47:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4805057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mawgon/pseuds/Mawgon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Faramir is ashamed of his body and believes he can never marry. For how could he ask a woman to be with such a disfigured man, who might not even be able to give her children?<br/>Éowyn, shield maiden and slayer of witch kings, could not care less.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for HobbitKinkMeme prompt: http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/8973.html?thread=19357965#t19357965
> 
> "One of the reasons reason Faramir was his dad's unfavorite was because he was born with partial androgen insensitivity syndrome, which can cause infertility, impotence, breast development and ambiguous or even outwardly female genitalia. Because of this, Faramir's too ashamed of his body to ever take a lover until he finds someone who loves and accepts him just the way he is."
> 
> Enjoy!

With his father and brother dead, Faramir had seen no point in surviving. The family was eradicated. He would never be able to continue the family line, as his father had often reminded him, and as there was a king now ... no one needed him. 

Somehow, in spite of himself, he had recovered to the point of being able to sit in the gardens around the Houses of Healing. And there ...

Ah! The White Lady of Rohan. What a woman! And she had talked to him! He had not been able to do much for her, as her wish was for a glorious death on the battlefield, and that, he could not give to her, not in good conscience. For Éowyn, beautiful Éowyn had clearly been in grief and not in her right mind. How else could she wish to die, a woman like her? 

She had seen reason, eventually, and in talking to her, in spending his time with her, Faramir’s own death wish had withered. His life had a purpose now, a most noble purpose, too, for he could not allow for the world to be bereft of such a wonderful woman as Éowyn. 

Of course, she could never know that he worshipped the ground on which she walked. She might feel cornered, might think that he desired to marry her ... and he did, if only in his dreams. 

He had known since childhood that he was disfigured, that he could never marry. It had not mattered then, for Boromir had defended him against the mockery of other boys, and and it had always been clear that Boromir would be the one to marry and father an heir. 

No more. 

Éowyn accepted him as her friend, as she knew nothing of his disfigurement. Most of it was hidden beneath his clothes, and while the healers would know, they would never tell. 

The fierce witchking-slayer held no love for warlike men, she had told him on one of their long walks through the gardens. Too many of them she had know, and seen how unwise their decisions often were. Faramir was her esteemed friend, one she would talk to of all her thoughts and plans for the future, and he was content to remain such. 

Her love, he knew, was for the king, for Aragorn, whom she could never have. And he understood her all too well, for he, too, longed for one he could never marry. 

 

Éowyn had returned to her home, and Faramir would often visit her. Such as now. He had hardly gotten off his horse, when Éowyn ran down the steps of her brother’s house. 

“Lady Éowyn”, he murmured, when her hug almost whisked him off his feet. “We are in public.”

“And?” She grinned, her beautiful grin that told him she cared not for the idle gossip of others, and he secretly loved it, loved that she thought nothing of the talk about them, the gossip that implied they would marry soon. She thought him worthy enough to not feel insulted by the implication, and it was more than he could wish for. 

 

Later that day, she led him to a secluded spot near the stables, where they often sat and talked. Her countentance was earnest, and he felt anxious at what she might tell him. Had new sorrows been added to her old ones?

“My lord Faramir”, she said, an address she not often used, as she would always call him by his name only. “There has been talk of an union between our houses.”

He bowed his head in acknowledgement. Had she only just now learnt of this?

“Indeed, it may well be that the only one who has never talked of the two of us marrying one another ... is you", she continued. 

“Lady Éowyn?”

“I can hardly hold it against you. Your people would laugh at you, would say you tamed a wild shieldmaiden ... a mannish woman, not fit to be anyone’s wife.”

“No!” He swallowed. "They would not ... I know that you love another."

"That was long ago. It was a mere infatuation. I knew nothing of him. You, on the other hand ... are you, too, engaged to marry another? Would fate be so cruel?"

“I ... I can never marry, Lady Éowyn. You know not what the gossip is ... about me.”

Her lips curved in a smile, a mirthless smile. “Do you think me so naive? I know well what they talk. That you are too gentle, that you are not manly enough ... do you think I care? Is that your opinion of me?”

“No one would ever reveal the truth in the presence of a lady.”

“Which truth? Is it not true then, that you are wise for your years, that you are kind and gentle?”

“It might be, but ...” He avoided her gaze. “Would you truly desire to marry me, Éowyn?”

“Have I not made myself clear? You are the only man I would ever marry.”

Faramir felt his face heat with the compliment. Never would he have dared to hope .... but she knew not of the truth. 

With trembling fingers, he took one of her slender hands, and lifted it to his cheek. “What do you feel?”

“Your skin is very smooth.” Now, there was mirth in her eyes as she caressed his cheek. “Is that to mean that you are not wholly disinclined?”

He placed his hand on hers. “I am not cleanly shaven, Lady Éowyn, the truth is that I can grow no beard.”

“The better I can kiss you.”

Suddenly, her face was so very close. “What would you say if I stole a kiss from you?”, she whispered. 

“Why steal when I would readily give you all that you desire?” 

His heart almost stopped beating when she placed her lips on his. A gentle, chaste kiss, and the happiest moment of his life. 

“You ... you do not know”, he stuttered when they parted. “I am disfigured. It is just ... not something that would be proper to show a lady before marriage.”

“Can an exception not be made?”, she whispered into his ear. “For me?”

He could not deny her anything. “I will take a bath tonight”, he said quietly. “If you were to accidentally open the door and see me... it might not be too improper.”

Ever since his childhood, he had never bathed in public, in lakes and rivers or shared bathhouses as others did.   
Even at home, he would usually lock the door. Not in this night. Éowyn had a right to know. After all, he would in all likelihood never be able to give her children, or even satisfy her in the marriage bed. The best healers had not been able to do anything about his abnormal genitals.

After removing his clothes, he sat down in the bathtub immediately, just in case someone else would happen to ...

The door opened, creaking. 

Éowyn smiled at him. “Oh dear! I am so sorry”, she said with badly faked embarrassment. “I didn’t know you were taking a bath.”

With shaking legs, he stood up. “Maybe you ... you want to leave now?”

Instead, she closed the door behind her and came closer. “Oh. Let me see.” And to his horror, she knelt down on the floor as if to get a better view. 

“You have seen other men naked, I assume?” How he even managed to get words out, he had no idea. 

“I have a brother.” She tilted her head just so. “And when I rode to war, I am afraid most men did not even walk some steps away before relieving their bladders. Most fascinating. You really are different.”

She was so lovely, kneeling there, her golden hair covering the floor like sunlight. 

“Why, this is indeed very improper. I shall leave you alone now.” She got up, winked at him, and left. 

Now, that was it. He sat down, no strength left in his legs. Now she knew why he could not marry her, and would hopefully remain his friend.   
At least he would have that one kiss to remember. One good reason to not drown himself in the bathtub. 

 

In the morning, he could hardly even drag himself out of bed and to breakfast. 

“Why the long face?” Eomer scolded, and pulled him into a bone-crushing embrace. “If you don’t change your countenance to something more befitting the occasion, I might have second thoughts about your proposal.”

“Excuse me?” What was this about? There must be a misunderstanding. 

“Éowyn told me, first thing in the morning! Of course I have no objections. Welcome to the family, brother!”

The White Lady of Rohan, witchking-slayer and war hero, smiled sweetly. “Come here, Faramir, drink from my cup. We are engaged now.”


	2. The Wedding Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, what can I say ... it would not be complete without their wedding night, would it?

Eowyn gave a sigh of relief as her lady’s maid pulled the wedding gown over her head. Finally she was out of that damned thing! Oh, it was pretty, but that was the problem: She had hardly dared to move in it, for fear it might be damaged. King Elessar had paid for the wedding, offically because Faramir and she were war heroes, but more likely because he felt bad about having tried to dissuade her from joining the warriors. He was a nice man, in his way, but nothing compared to Faramir. She could see that very clearly, now.

“My lady? Will you want breakfast early tomorrow?”

“No, I expect not. You should knock at the door before you enter tomorrow. I think my husband will stay the night.” Oh, he would offer to leave. Her darling Faramir. Always so courteous. She chuckled to herself as she remembered how he had blushed when she had looked at him in the bath. The very same man who had later offered her that she could take a lover, provided she did it discreetly. He had, of course, been horribly embarrassed about it, but he had suggested it nevertheless. 

She intended to make him blush even more tonight. And hopefully drive all those silly thoughts about her taking a lover out of his beautiful head. 

“His valet should have him peeled out of all those clothes by now, don’t you think?”

The maid blushed. Eowyn sighed. She would have to get used to the manners of Ithilien. The people of Rohan were crude at times, and just implying that her husband would be naked now, would be nothing anyone would bat an eye at. 

There was a knock at the door. Eowyn hastily slipped into her nightgown, just in case. 

Faramir was in a nightgown, too – what a waste!. But maybe it was the best, at least for the sake of the maid, who was in a hurry to get out of the room. 

“Would you lock the door, my love?”

His shy smile as he did her bidding was adorable. “You ... you know you don’t have to ...” he mumbled. 

Eowyn laughed and got rid of the nightgown as fast as she had donned it. 

She had expected it to have an effect on her new husband, but was a bit surprised that he seemed rendered speechless. Of course he had not seen a naked woman before. Not Faramir. He was far too decent for that. 

He stepped closer, staring at her as if she was a dream. “May ... may I touch?”

“Certainly.” She had other plans for tonight – plans that involved her touching him, but that would have to wait. 

Reverently he pressed his lips to her shoulder. And then to her collarbone. Did he want to kiss her whole body?   
He acted like it. Between kisses, he would look into her eyes, and whisper sweet little nothings. Her soft moan when he kissed her nipples startled him, but after some reassurance, he pressed his lips to her other breast. 

“Maybe”, she suggested as he knelt down to kiss her belly “We should relocate to the bed? That would be more comfortable.”

“Oh ... yes ...”

He had blushed, a beautiful pink. She cupped his face with her hand. “Come. I will lie down, and you can ... continue.”

“Are you sure you want me ...?”

She brushed her thumb over his lips. “Have I not waited long enough? I insist”, she reassured him, and his lips parted to caress her fingers. 

“You really want me to kiss you ... everywhere?”, he asked, his breath now faster. 

“Why not?”

She made herself comfortable on the bed, and her husband sat down at the foot of the bed, bowed down, and continued. His dark hair caressed her thigh while his hand touched the blonde curls at the apex of her legs. “Here?”

“If you want.”

He held the hair aside with his hand and pressed his lips to her most intimate parts. “You are beautiful”, he whispered. 

“As are you, my love.” She placed a hand on his head, to stroke his silky hair. “I liked what you did just now ... would you ...?”

“Whatever you want.” He licked his lips. “May I ... taste?”

“Oh!” She could not keep herself from raising her hips to meet his mouth. “Yes ...”

Now she could feel his hot breath, and then his tongue. When her grasp in his hair tightened, he looked up at her, the question already in his eyes. 

“Please continue.” 

He did. 

 

It was not that she had not known this kind of pleasure before. However, she had never before had a lover from whose lips to kiss the taste of her own pleasure after she was satisfied. 

“My husband”, she whispered as she did so. “Mine forever.”

He smiled. “Yours forever.” 

“Now it is my turn.” 

He gasped when she slid her hands under his nightgown, but did not protest. She ran her hands over his body. All hers now ... his soft chest, just the hint of breasts, nipples she could just so kiss, and hear his breath quicken as she did so. 

Faramir held his arms up so she could pull the gown over his head. “You don’t have to ...” 

He blushed again, so beautifully, and she continued despite his murmured protests. 

“You really should not ...”

She hesitated. “Should not, or you do not want me to?”

“Should not ... it is gross ...” His lips were parted now, moist and rosy as he looked up at her. “There is no need ...”

“Oh, but I _want_ to.”

He moaned, surrendering his body to her touches, opening his legs to give her better access. 

Eowyn had always liked to explore, and what might have been intimidating to another woman was exciting to her. True, her husband did not look like other men, especially not down there, but she was confident she would figure it out in time. 

She closed her hand around his member. It was small enough to fit perfectly, and the noises he made as she caressed it were just beautiful. 

“Eowyn”, his voice was hoarse now. “Please ...”

“Shall I stop?”

“No ....” He raised his hips to meet her hand. “Please ...”

She kissed him again, because his lips were so beautiful as he pleaded, and with another moan, he came. 

“See? That was not so difficult.” 

“Your hand ... I am sorry ...”

“Sleep, my love.” She kissed his forehead. “I can clean myself. You must be exhausted.”

Apparently, all those jokes about the endurance of men were true. She would have to wait for tomorrow night. 

She would be patient.


End file.
